’Really, Miss.  French!  The society in which I move is not what you seem to suppose.  If your sister is in any danger of that kind, you must make your inquiries elsewhere—­in an inferior rank of life.’

Beatrice no longer contained herself.

’Perhaps I know rather more than you think about your kind of society.  There’s not much to choose between the men and the women.’

’Miss.  French, I believe you reside in a part of London called Camberwell.  And I believe you are engaged in some kind of millinery business.  This excuses you for ill-manners.  All the same, I must beg you to relieve me of your presence.’  She rang the bell.  ’Good evening.’

‘I dare say we shall see each other again,’ replied Beatrice, with an insulting laugh.  ’I heard some one say to-day that it might be as well to find out who you really are.  And if any harm comes to Fanny, I shall take a little trouble about that inquiry myself.’

Mrs. Damerel changed colour, but no movement betrayed anxiety.  In the attitude of dignified disdain, she kept her eyes on a point above Miss.  French’s head, and stood so until the plebeian adversary had withdrawn.

Then she sat down, and for a few minutes communed with herself.  In the end, instead of going to dinner, she rang her bell again.  A servant appeared.

‘Is Mr. Mankelow in the dining-room?’

‘Yes, ma’am.’

‘Ask him to be kind enough to come here for a moment.’

With little delay, Mr. Mankelow answered the summons which called him from his soup.  He wore evening dress; his thin hair was parted down the middle; his smooth-shaven and rather florid face expressed the annoyance of a hungry man at so unseasonable an interruption.

‘Do forgive me,’ began Mrs. Damerel, in a pathetic falsetto.  ’I have been so upset, I felt obliged to seek advice immediately, and no one seemed so likely to be of help to me as you—­a man of the world.  Would you believe that a sister of that silly little Miss.  French has just been here—­a downright. virago—­declaring that the girl has been led astray, and that I am responsible for it?  Can you imagine such impertinence?  She has fibbed shockingly to the people at home —­told them she was constantly here with me in the evenings, when she must have been—­who knows where.  It will teach me to meddle again with girls of that class.’

Mankelow stood with his hands behind him, and legs apart, regarding the speaker with a comically puzzled air.

’My dear Mrs. Damerel,’—­he had a thick, military sort of voice,—­ ’why in the world should this interpose between us and dinner?  Afterwards, we might—­’

’But I am really anxious about the silly little creature.  It would be extremely disagreeable if my name got mixed up in a scandal of any kind.  You remember my telling you that she didn’t belong exactly to the working-class.  She has even a little property of her own; and I shouldn’t wonder if she has friends who might make a disturbance if her—­her vagaries could be in any way connected with me and my circle.  Something was mentioned about Brussels.  She has been chattering about some one who wanted to take her to Brussels—­’